


Reaching for Memories, There’s Nothing But Dust

by soclosethatisafruit



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Dr. Carmilla’s A+ Parenting, Every day i write about my kin memories, He/she/they ivy, Implied/Referenced Medical Experimentation, Manipulation, Other, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:15:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27477145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soclosethatisafruit/pseuds/soclosethatisafruit
Summary: Ivy Alexandria has the title of Archivist, but he knows they are really more of an archive. Meant to observe, to take it all in, but not get involved.
Relationships: Ivy Alexandria & Jonny d'Ville
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	Reaching for Memories, There’s Nothing But Dust

**Author's Note:**

> Writing about your fucked up kin memories can be a coping mechanism! (Title from Losing Track)

There is no before. No pre-mechanization Ivy, no humanity to cling to, no memory of a time before she was This. All the information in the universe, a metal brain with knowledge carved into it at every wire and joint, painstakingly, painfully, but nothing of them. He took the role of archivist, yes, but she was really the Archive. A blank slate, made to observe, to store information, not to be involved, not to feel. A calm, unbiased, unfeeling, vessel for information. Facts, data, cold and hard was all he was supposed to be. Useful. If they stayed useful they would be, not loved of course, she wasn’t a person to love, but maybe he could involve herself just a little. Maybe he could come to crew dinners, do something with them, instead of staying in her library all day, just taking and sleeping, hoping this one she would remember even a snippet of her dream, just something to base her past off of. Maybe if she reads enough, has all the answers, knows enough, is good enough, she can earn a place.

And she has started to, just a little, they’ve gotten used to how cold and flat he is, because after all, a brain is what makes a person, and hers is metal, made up by their creator. They start to come out of their library, maybe only once a week, but no one is visible uncomfortable when she comes near them. 

But then it all goes wrong. The doctor notices, she sees Ivy warming up to the rest of the crew, and the crew warming up to her. But that’s not right, that’s not her purpose. Getting too close means feelings, means bias, so the doctor decides to put a stop to it. 

As she finishes rewiring, the doctor sends the archive back to her room, telling her to get some rest, she could use it.   
And so they follow her order, and wake up to nothing. She knows there is exactly 17.5 meters to the door, he knows he has been awake for 7.249 seconds, but they do not know who they are, where they are. Though they do not know how, his feet take him to a vast library, where he starts reading (How did she know she left off here, exactly 12.857% of the way through?) and he does not leave for another 2 weeks. By then, through context, he has figured out where she is, who she is (as much as they ever can), and what his purpose is. He has deduced that there are others on the ship, but deemed that her mission of learning it all is more beneficial to them than meeting her. 

Eventually, one of them comes knocking at her library door, a short man, wearing far too many belts (541% more than the average humanoid, her brain supplies), and an expression of anger barely covering concern.   
“Where the fuck have you been? No one’s seen you since- since she brought you in for maintenance.” He scowls, arms crossed, looking at her expectantly.  
“You are one of the crew of this ship, I presume? Apologies, I am Ivy Alexandria, I believe I am the archivist here, I don’t believe we have met.” She replies, holding out her hand for him to shake. (Typical human customs indicate a firm handshake with the right hand is a standard professional greeting.)

He just stares at her outstretched hand.(Did she pick the wrong custom?)  
“The fuck are you on about? You know me, it’s Jonny, is this your idea of a fucking joke? Fuck off Ivy, come on.”   
She starts to explain.   
“Approximately 2 weeks, 7 hours, and 28 minutes ago I woke up on this ship with no memory, but deduced that i was the Archivist here. So I set out to do my job. I apologize if I missed some information.” She puts down her hand, if he hadn’t taken it by now there was an increasingly low chance he would. And indeed, he- Jonny, he had told her, was looking more panicked by the second. She needed to fix this.   
“Would you like me to introduce myself?” She offers, hoping to soothe him.  
He pays no attention to them, muttering things she can’t make out, but she does catch “I’ll kill her.” He processes their words eventually, finally saying   
“Yeah, I- I’ll catch you up, we can talk about it later.”  
And so she follows, to meet the crew, not for the first nor the last time.


End file.
